The Illusion of Time
by PasUneVampire
Summary: Tony goes back in time after a mission gone wrong. He lands in Brooklyn three years before Steve's transformation into Captain America. With no way to get back to 2014, Tony accepts a job within a special part of the army. Years later, Tony is asked to help with Project Rebirth where he meats a scrawny kid with beautiful blue eyes. Wait, isn't he familiar? Amnesia!Tony SLOW UPDATES
1. Preface

Hi. So, just a quick preface for this story. I wrote down my idea for this story at 3:27am while watching Top Gear on BBC America. I edited it every so often until 5:57am just because I couldn't sleep. In other words, I have no idea how this story might turn out now that I've started writing it...

Summary: Tony goes back in time after a mission gone wrong to stop one of Doctor Doom's newest somehow-going-to-take-over-the-world-with-some-kind-of-smarty-pants-tech machine. He lands in Brooklyn three years before Steve's transformation into Captain America. With no way to get back to 2013, with some fault towards his partial amnesia, Tony accepts a job within a special part of the army. Years later, Tony is asked to help with Project Rebirth where he meats a scrawny blonde kid with beautiful blue eyes. Wait, isn't he familiar?

Warnings: Tony's use of words, my fangirling ides that may run a bit rampant, and some male on male relationships to the extent I have yet to decide. Oh, and some violence, sarcasm, war stuffs, and probably something I've forgotten to mention.

Possibly may eventually need a warning: panic attacks, mentions of past abuse and/or torture, "current" torture, and maybe something else but IDK yet.

Special thanks to my oldest sister for coming up with the Doctor Doom thing because I was just too lazy to pick a reason for time travel.

The line breaks (- . . - - .) are "time" in Morse Code... Because I can, that's why.

I'm going to add a quote about time before each chapter. The first quote obviously helped me name this story.

"_Time is an illusion." –Albert Einstein_

_Disclaimer: I own squat._

The Illusion of Time

"Oh, so you've decided to show up after all, huh?" Tony asked sarcastically over the comm. system.

"Iron Man, stay focused," Steve replied curtly. "Now is not the time. Location?"

"Same as the last time you asked, dear. I've been hovering around this poor excuse of an evil hideaway while the peanut gallery has been taking their sweet time getting here."

Steve huffed out a breath as he ignored the billionaire's retort. Some day, Stark's attitude was going to get him in some serious trouble.

- . . - - .

Something was about to go horribly wrong. Coming from the technologically challenged man from the 1940's, it must have been bad for Steve to figure it out. The machine was humming and shaking, lights were swirling from it's inside, and a high pitched whine was escaping it as the electricity throughout the rest of the abandoned warehouse flickered.

"Iron Man, we need you to figure out what that thing is _now_," the Cap yelled as he fought off yet another of Doctor Doom's robots.

"Well, the Doc's a bit screwed in the head," the Hulk snorted at this, "and it also doesn't help that it's been damaged. Cap, I have next to _no _idea what this thing was built for. Shit!" One of the bots had grabbed ahold of Tony's thrusters, it's strong grip crushing the bottom of Tony's boots and their weight and momentum threw them both to the ground.

With their neighborhood god back home in Asgard and their master assassins out on a separate mission, the remaining three Avengers were fighting a losing battle. Believing they were being called out simply to check out some very suspicious activity from a most likely low-grade super villain, the three hadn't bothered to wait for any other Avenger to be dragged out to the location. A mistake, they were learning, that was going to cost them.

The Hulk was relatively fine, if a bit pissed at the annoyingly large number of robots that wee quickly replacing their fallen others. Tony was frustrated at the mysterious machine, had been beaten around quite a bit when the robots had ganged up on him, and he was a bit antsy to leave before the unknown machine did something bad, like blowing up or emitting an EMP high enough to effect his arc reactor. Steve was still fighting hard, his body already covered in small cuts and bruises from blows he hadn't quite stopped in time, but overall was mostly still just annoyed by Tony. _Genius my ass._

"Hey Cap?" Tony hesitated.

"What?" Steve bit out. He kicked the robot away before bringing his shield down on it, effectively cutting through the important circuitry in the thing's "head."

"I think we should head out. The Doc's machine looks about ready to blow."

"Shit," Steve murmured. It continued to amuse Tony that the Cap's vocabulary could be almost as bad as his own when angry or frustrated. "I think we're a little busy here," he said quickly, barely managing to keep the upper hand against another robot.

The Hulk grunted, he had been doing increasingly so over the past few minutes. This time, Steve felt it. The ground was shaking. It was still only a little bit, but it had obviously been getting worse and it didn't appear to be slowing.

Steve looked to Doom's machine. The thing was shaking violently, the lights were shining brightly, and the high pitched whine was now close to deafening, yet the machine only seemed to be working harder towards doing _something_.

Tony flew over and landed next to the machine in a last ditch attempt to stop whatever it was made for from happening. "Shit, shit, shit!" Tony quickly pulled his hand away after burning it on the apparently hot machine. The walls of the building were rattling, the high lighting fixtures were trembling and a few had already crashed to the ground. Tony's hands flew to his ears as the screeching noise became unbearable. The high windows shattered and their world was encompassed in white.

- . . - - .

Yes, I know this was short. This was just sort of an FYI/preface thing. The first chapter will be longer than this.

I hope you will like this story and thanks for reading. -PUV


	2. Chapter 1

"_I always felt like I was meant to have been born in another era, another time." –Johnny Depp_

_Disclaimer: I own squat._

The world was black and silent... until it wasn't. Tony dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the oncoming vehicle. He crashed into the sidewalk, a man walking down the street ignored him as he calmly stepped over Tony. Tony stood up carefully, brushing himself off as he checked for any injuries.

"Oh shit!" Tony spun around frantically. He looked into the street and all around him, but his suit wasn't there. Left standing in the old blue jeans and simple white top he had been wearing under the suit, Tony fell back against a brick wall as he started to realize just what was around him.

In the drizzly rain in the dark of early morning, an old 1940's billboard hung above the building across the street, advertising the need for able and willing men to enlist. Only, this sign was not even two years old. A few vehicles parked alongside the road are old models to Tony, but these cars are still on their original engine and parts and working just fine. The man that had stepped over Tony earlier was a bit farther down the sidewalk, head bowed in his slow trudge to avoid getting the drizzle of rain in his eyes. From his spot against the wall, Tony could see the newness of the man's old fashioned suit that is currently of fairly high fashion for this war-burdened time.

"Fuck," Tony gasped, one hand automatically moving to protectively cover his arc. Tony's arc and suit were well ahead the technology of his own time and there was no telling what people of the forties might think of them and subsequently do to him. Tony lipped into a nearby alleyway after a quick glance around.

Tony wracked his brain for anything that he knew about this time. The only thing he could figure out about this time was the approximate year and that he was from 2013. _What? Start over._ Tony knew he was a genius. He lives in Manhattan in the year 2013. He was wearing his Iron Man suit when there was a bright white light. His parents, Howard and Maria, had died when he was young and he had no other family.

Besides that, Tony's memories were few, vague, and mostly unimportant. He could remember Jarvis comforting him during a thunderstorm, bits and pieces of his graduation, a few drunken evenings spent by himself. He remembers Howard's old friend Obadiah, the name accompanied by a vague sense of unease and betrayal. Then there's Afghanistan. He's pretty sure he remembers most of his time in the cave, but he can't be too sure. Tony knows he crashed the first suit and how he wondered around aimlessly for _hours_ until. Until something, but he couldn't remember what. Anything between that moment and a few seconds before he was dropped into the forties was just empty. _Great. Just great._

Tony's thoughts shifted to the... the present? Past? Whatever. A woman cried out again from farther down the alleyway and Tony turned and sprinted towards the distressed sounding woman. At the other end of the alleyway Tony found a man pressing a knife against a young woman's throat as he demanded all of her money. Tony assumed that, if left undisturbed, the man wouldn't stop there.

"Hey!" Tony yelled. The man turned towards him.

"Mind your own business, bub," the man's ugly scratchy voice replied.

"Why don't you let her go first?" Tony jauntily replied.

"Take a stroll, bub. This won't end pretty for ya," the man leered, turning the knife towards Tony.

"What's a matter, honey? Don't want to play with me?" Tony teased the man in a seductively low voice.

The man flushed with anger at Tony's jeer and took the bait. He stepped away from the woman, whom slipped away quickly, and took a few steps towards Tony. The man's hand tightened on the knife, his eyes daring Tony to make the first move. Tony lunged towards the his left and the man swung his knife in the same direction. Expecting the move, Tony readily jumped to his right and landed a hard blow to the man's stomach. The man bent over in pain just enough for Tony to knee him in the face where red blood began to rush from his nose. The man staggered back and glared at Tony. The man jumped at Tony whose limited field training hadn't included a man lunging just to take him down.

The man was a few inches taller than Tony and easily over fifty founds heavier, and Tony was knocked to his back under the man's weight. One of Tony's hands flew to protect the arc and the other to his head as the man began punching at random. He landed one or two fairly wimpy punches before one hit home at Tony's left temple. Tony's head snapped to the right, his vision going black for a few seconds. Blinking his eyes, the man scrambled to hold Tony's arms still with one hand as he raised the other. Recognizing the knife held against the woman, Tony pulled his arms free and shoved the man as hard as he could.

The man brought the knife down just as Tony shoved him away. Tony didn't know where the man had planned to land the knife, but it now ended up striking his left bicep. Tony hissed in a breath while the man, who had fallen onto his back, tried to stand up. Tony kicked the man as hard as he could in the head, sending him careening backwards. Tony jumped onto the man, whom feebly fought back, and rained blows down onto him until one well placed fist knocked the man out cold.

Tony leans back and catches his breath. He eyes the man before crawling next to him. Tony eventually pulled the man's leather jacket off of him, and rather than aggravating the cut on his arm, simply draped the jacket over his body. Tony was beginning to get col in his wet clothes, the jacket mercifully keeping and more water off of him and retaining some of his body heat. Tony began moving forwards, unsure where he was going or why. Some unknown amount of time later, Tony's frame was visibly shaking from the cold and he was tired from walking and blood loss. He found a quiet looking building that didn't appear to be too dirty, if a bit rundown. Tony's right arm braced himself as he slid to the ground and leaned against the wall. He pulled his knees to his chest, put his left arm on top of them, his right next with his hand clamped around the sluggishly bleeding wound, and his head fell tiredly on top. Tony's breathing slowed and exhaustion quickly took over.

- . . - - .

"Bucky, honestly. This dame will be just like the last one you tried to set me up with," a scrawny Steve Rodgers stated matter-of-factly as he walked down the stairs of his small Brooklyn apartment.

Bucky shook his head. "What'cha mean?" he asked innocently as he trotted ahead of his best friend.

Steve looked up at his best friend as the two reached the ground floor and sighed. "You know what I mean, Bucky. Dames just aren't interested in a guy like me."

"Aww, Steve," Bucky walked through the front door and held it for his friend. "You know that someone out there will just fall for yo-" Bucky stopped as Steve tripped.

"Hey!" Bucky yelled at the drunkard whose outstretched leg had tripped Steve. One leg was drawn up to his chest and supported his bowed head as his arms lay limp by his sides.

"Bucky, I'm okay." Steve looked to the man he tripped over. "Excuse me, mister. I'm sorry for running into you." Bucky snorted. "Are you okay?" Steve asked.

The man didn't respond. He didn't move.

"He's just some drunk, Steve. Leave him alone so we can get to the girls."

Steve ignored Bucky to lay a hand lightly on the man's left shoulder. When the man didn't move again, Steve shook him gently. The man hissed in pain, brown eyes finally squinting open in time to watch Steve's blue eyes widen as he noticed the blood on the ground next to the man. "Sir? What happened? Are you alright?" Steve heard Bucky impatiently tap his foot. "Bucky, he's bleeding."

"Honestly, Steve. You're far to kind to people that really don't deserve it," Bucky said sarcastically but knelt next to the man anyways. "Hey. Hey fella." He poked a bruise on the man's forehead. Steve swatted his hand away when the man let out another groan, lifting his right hand under the jacket draped on his shoulders. He slipped the hand into the left side of his jacket and left it near his upper arm. Steve pulled the jacket back to reveal a cut running diagonal across the man's bicep, blood sluggishly oozing from the wound as it joined the quite a bit of blood already dried onto his arm, his side, and the sidewalk.

"Bucky, help me get him inside."

"Steve, wait just a s-"

"Please." Steve looked pleadingly into his larger friend's dark eyes.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Fine," he huffed. "But when he kills you in the middle of the night, don't you dare start haunting me."

Steve flashed him a grin. "Deal."

- . . - - .

Tony's first thought after waking up were along the lines of _How drunk was I and how hot was _she_ for me to wake up in a place like this?_

After quietly laying still for a few minutes on probably the most uncomfortable thing Tony had ever slept on, besides in Afghanistan of course, Tony's eyes fluttered open for the second time that morning.

"Good afternoon." _Oh. Not morning._

Brown eyes drifted lazily towards blue.

"Afternoon," Tony slurred sleepily. A quick glance around the room, being an old fashioned and very small apartment living room, and he was reminded of _where_ he was.

"My name is Steve Rodgers. What's yours?" the blonde asked kindly. The small man was sitting on the edge of a beaten coffee table in front of the couch Tony had been placed on.

_Rodgers... Why is that name familiar?_ "Anthony Stark." _No point in lying, the guy's a stick._

"Nice to meet you Mr. Star-"

"Tony," he cut in. "Mr. Stark was my father."

"Well, Tony. Are you alright? You had a pretty nasty cut on your arm. What happened to you?"

"I stopped a guy with a knife from robbing some lady," he stated bluntly.

"Oh, wow," Steve's eyes widened. "That was brave of you."

"Yeah, well. Look what I got for my troubles." Tony gestured to his arm, a white bandage stained with a line of red was wrapped around his bicep. Tony looked at it curiously.

"My mother was a nurse," Steve explained.

"Was?" Tony gingerly pulled himself into a sitting position on the lumpy couch.

"She died. Mustard gas. My father died in the war when I was a kid." Tony shivered, goose bumps covering his unprotected arms.

"My parents both died before my twenty-first birthday. Car Accident."

"I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago. I'm sorry to you too." Tony pulled the small cover over his chest and arms.

"Thanks." The two looked around the small room in awkward silence. Tony shivered again.

"Why's it so damn cold?" Steve gave a small jump at the sudden question.

"Um, heater's broken. My landlord won't pay to fix it and I don't have the money to hire someone myself."

"You have any tools?"

"Yeah?" It was practically a question. "Under the kitchen sink."

Tony stood up, the blanket falling half on the couch and half on the floor. He strode into the kitchen and removed a small box of tool before plopping himself down in front of the silent heater.

"What're you doing?" Steve asked, still sitting on the coffee table.

"Well, 's the least I could do. You did save my life, after all."

Steve stared at him. "Wha-?"

Tony chuckled. "Don't strain yourself, kid. I was joking." He winked and set to the heater.

Steve blushed and looked out the small window. _Who is this man?_


	3. Chapter 2

"Time is a gift, given to you, given to give you the time you need, the time you need to have the time of your life_." –Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth_

_Disclaimer: I own squat._

Steve was reading the newspaper the next morning when it hit him. "Tony _Stark?_" he murmured to himself. Tony had been staying with Steve for the past few days, earning his keep however he could and easily putting up with Bucky when he came to check up on the pair. Well, came to make sure Steve was fine and that he didn't have a strange man to hunt down.

Tony wandered over and plopped himself down on the couch next to Steve. He was currently fiddling with the toaster, but Steve had no idea what he was actually doing. "Who 'dat?" Tony asked, the screwdriver being held in his mouth garbling his speech.

"That's Howard Stark. He's a real swell sounding guy. You know him?"

Tony grunted. _I hardly remember the guy but I know for a _fact_ he wasn't "swell."_ "Nope."

Steve hummed. "What?" Tony gripped the screwdriver with his hand again to fiddle some more.

"It's just that, well, you're name's Stark."

"Yeah."

"And you're really smart. You've fixed almost everything in my apartment better than how it was supposed to work."

"I'm a genius," Tony grinned, his head lolling to the side onto Steve's shoulder.

Steve laughed and playfully pushed Tony off of him. "Well, I just thought that maybe you'd be related."

"Maybe distantly or something, but I think I'd remember if I met _that_" Tony pointed at the newspaper picture of a smiling Howard, "man."

Steve was quiet. Tony looked up from his work to see Steve with a far off look in his eyes, his lips slightly pursed.

"Steve." Steve jumped and turned to face Tony. "I know that look, Steve. What's wrong?"

"Bucky told me yesterday that he was going to sign up for the war. He wanted to wait until I had a good job or was in college or something, that way he'd know I would be okay."

"You afraid something will happen to him?"

"No- well of course, but..." Steve trailed off, still staring at the newspaper picture.

Tony nodded his head. He knew what Steve was thinking about. "Why are you so worried all the time, huh? Steve, you have some real potential. You're smart-"

"Not near as smart as you," Steve mumbled.

"You can draw better than anything I've seen-"

"Yeah, maybe I could end up like Van Gogh-"

"And you're sassier than Bucky and I combined," Tony finished. He sighed. "Steve, you just have to put your mind to something you _really_ want to do, something you want to _be_. Maybe you haven't quite figured it out yet, but I bet one day you will."

Steve shook his head slowly. "Tony, you know I can't do much of _anyth_-"

"Steve, look at me." Steve looked up from the carpet. "You were _made_ to do something. It may take a little bit of time to find out _what_, but Steve, you're going to change the _world_."

The corners of Steve's lips lifted a bit. "You sound like you know that for a fact."

"Hey, my brain may be a bit screwed right now, but I have a good feeling about this."

- . . - - .

"Steve, Steve, Steve!"

"Tony, Tony, Tony!" Steve yelled back as Tony rushed into the apartment. He jumped and plopped heavily onto the old couch, Steve calmly making his way over to sit next to the excited man.

"You'll never guess what just happened," Tony rushed out, leaning towards Steve.

"From the smell of your breath, I'd guess you went to a bar," Steve raised an eyebrow with a playfully disapproving look.

"Noo," Tony drew out. "Well yeah, but I got a job."

"At the bar?"

"No, with some military associated scientist group thing that I'm still not exactly sure what it's for."

"Umm, what?"

"Okay," Tony breathed. "I went to the bar and ordered a drink. Then, all of the sudden, Howard Stark walked in and sat down next to me. We got to drinking, we got to talking, I got around to proving to him that I may actually be smarter than him- but you know I was taking it easy on him, right? Anyways, he told me about this science group that he was a part of. It's super secret but he said they could use a mind like me since he's _too busy_ to do anything more than help fund it."

"So Howard Stark gave you a job?"

"Basically, yeah. All I have to do is show up in to meet Howard tomorrow afternoon. He's already booked two seats on the next train up to Rochester, New York."

"Tomorrow?"

"Is there an echo in here? Yeah, Steve."

"So," Steve paused, "I guess this is goodbye?"

Tony's manic fast movements halted. "Yeah... I guess it is." Tony and Steve both looked away, the weight of their words settling heavily upon them.

- . . - - .

Steve watched out his window as Tony strutted away. The man walked quickly across the street just before a car drove by, turning around a corner and leaving Steve before he could really get to know him. Steve hoped that, one day, he might see the strange genius again.

- . . - - .

Honestly, Tony wished he could have stayed with Steve a bit longer. The younger man was interesting to Tony, and very brave for such a small guy. Not to mention that he could be surprisingly funny and could actually put up with him for days on end.

Tony skipped up onto the sidewalk, the car whizzing past honking once at him. Tony sighed as he walked around the corner of a brick building, hoping that, maybe, he could run into Steve again.

- . . - - .

It's been a while since Tony left Steve for Rochester, but the man still occasionally frequented his thoughts. Standing there watching Howard Stark show off his flying car, before it crashed to the ground, Steve's thoughts drifted towards the other Stark man.

Maybe it was real, or maybe he was imagining it, but Steve could swear that he saw some similarities between the two men. Their hair, their up going voices and attitude, their genius minds that were too far advanced for this day and age.

As Steve turned and spotted the recruiting office, Tony's voice flittered through his head. _"You were _made_ to do something. It may take a little bit of time to find out _what_, but Steve, you're going to change the _world_." _And Steve believed him, just like he believed he was made to serve his country.

- . . - - .

Tony had been tricked. He had thought he had been smarter than Howard, and that was probably true, but the man had still managed to lie to his face without Tony noticing. However, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Tony had been excited to be able to put his mind to use and to have harder things to put his mind and hands too. Sure, it would have been kind of weird to work with the man that would eventually father him, but it could have been okay since Tony didn't really remember him. Either way, at least now that Tony knew that Howard was only really a benefactor, he wouldn't have to butt heads with the man.

No one would be able to doubt his intellect, nor could they argue for something that may-_ wouldn't_- work better. He met a kind German named Dr. Erskine, whom was who he mostly worked with. Erskine reminded Tony of Yinsen, and he was the biology to Tony's technology. For all of his smarts, Tony wouldn't be anywhere near where they were with their research and technology if Erskine hadn't been there to help with the more human parts of it.

"First Lieutenant Stark!" a man barked from the doorway.

Tony looked up from his work at Erskine. "These people do realize that doing science and working out with them doesn't mean I'm _really_ in the army, let alone that I should be able to move up titles, right?"

Dr. Erskine grinned at Tony and shrugged before turning back to his work. Tony walked over to the young man. He seemed a bit frightened of Tony; either because of his _much_ higher status, or because he had heard some of the stories floating around about him. Everyone on base knew that Tony was crazy smart, incredibly stubborn, and brave enough to stand up to Colonel Phillips without hesitation.

"The Colonel would like a word, sir." _Speak of the devil._

- . . - - .

"Lieutenant Stark, you swore to me that you and Dr. Erskine would have _results_ by now!"

"We do have results, we just need a little more time. Give me a year to-"

"A year! Stark, this is going _nowhere_ now. You have _one day_ to show me that this serum is looking good before I shut you down."

"In that case, sir, come with me," Tony stated angrily.

Colonel Phillips seemed surprised by this. "Alright Stark." The two men walked across the base and into the lab area.

"Tony?" Erskine called. He looked up, standing and saluting at their guest kindly. "Colonel."

Phillips nodded at Dr. Erskine before turning back to Tony, who had his back to him.

"Alright Stark," Tony pulled out the needle of penicillin from his arm and placed it on the table, grabbing another syringe, "now show me what you two have got."

Tony turned to face the two men, showing them the singular, large needle in his hand. Erskine's eyes widened, his face paling instantly. "Tony, no, wai-!"

Tony jabbed the needle into his bicep, quickly and efficiently pushing the entire vial of liquid into his body. He calmly removed the needle, placing it gently on the table next to him.

"Tony, why in the world-?" Erskine was cut off.

"The Colonel here wanted proof that we were actually getting somewhere with the serum, or else he'd shut down our sector. I thought, what better way to show him that to administer our current formula on myself?"

"Tony, we are _months_ away, you know that!"

"Yeah, but now we'll be able to see how well this can work, even at an early stage-" Tony stopped talking. He suddenly felt weak, he couldn't form words and his body wasn't responding. Erskine and Phillips jumped as Tony fell, both too late to stop him from crashing into the concrete flooring. Tony's body started convulsing, his head rolling back in forth. His eyes closed and he groaned in pain as his back arched off the ground.

Erskine quickly went to hold him down, carefully holding his head and sticking the end of a nearby pair of wooden tongs into his mouth so the man couldn't bite off his tongue and choke. The Colonel also helped secure him, helping Tony's body to keep from hitting anything dangerous while still allowing it to move so that he wouldn't accidentally break one of the man's bones.

What felt like an hour later, Tony's body stilled.


	4. Chapter 3

"The future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of sixty minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is." _-__C.S. Lewis_

_Disclaimer: I own squat._

"Tony?... Can you hear me?" Someone gently patted his face with a warm hand. "Open your eyes, Tony. I know you're awake."

Tony groaned, his eyelids fluttering but never really opening. "_Tony_, open your eyes. Please." The voice was getting more persistent.

"Doctor Erskine, Sir... Was there a possibility of the serum affecting his brain? We could know so much more if you'd only let us run some test-."

"No, I do not believe so." Erskine cut him off. " I just think that this annoyingly _lazy_," the man leaned in close to say this, "man here just doesn't want to wake up."

"M'wake." Tony mumbled. Like Hell was he going to sit around and let two people talk about him right over his head, especially if one of them happened to be trying to wake him up before the stupid doctor found and messed with his arc. Tony concentrated on his body, piece by piece. Toes? Wiggle. Legs? Tucked in a bit too tight by sheets, but other than that, okay. Chest? Well, he's breathing so that must be a sign. Hands? Tony gripped his hands around the side of the metal bed frame, most likely located in the Med tent. Head? A little groggy, a little heavy, but still okay.

Tony tried to open his eyes again, squinting against the harsh summer light filtering in from the open flaps of the tent a few feet away. He groaned. It's not that he was sore from working out or anything, he just felt as if he had been lying down for a few days while slowly being stretched out.

"Tony? How do you feel?"

Tony used his handholds on the sides of the bed and his abs to pull him into a seated position. He squinted at Erskine as his eyes finished adjusting to the light.

"I don't know," Tony trailed off for a second. "A little sore, but I also feel pretty good," Tony admitted. His scar tissue around the arc wasn't at all bothering him, his joints felt well oiled and he felt as if he could run through his exercises three times over.

"Tony, the serum," now it was Erskine's turn to trail off.

"Yeah? How'd it turn out? They didn't kick us out so I'm guessing _something_ went right."

Erskine nodded his head to Tony's hands. Tony looked down and saw them gripping the metal bedframe which he saw had been bent slightly into two hand shaped dents when he removed his hands. The doctor silently handed Tony a mirror on the small side table next to his rickety chair. Tony accepted it carefully, holding it up to assess the changes.

"You were out for four days," Erskine said. _So that's why I'm so hungry._

"Yeah, but that beauty sleep really did the trick, huh?"

- . . - - .

After waking up, Tony had opted for a nice shower and a meal before he and Doctor Erskine got back to business. Tony stared in the small mirror above the sink. He had just showered, his wet hair combed back from his face and a towel rested on his hips. Tony looked at the larger muscles of his torso, his arms. His arc didn't quite stick out as much, his newly enhanced body _thankfully_ accepting it a little better than before, though the pressure in his chest didn't seem to have increased.

Changes that he did _not_ expect to see? The mirror-Tony looked younger, probably around twenty something years old. The dark circles under his eyes form years of nights in the lab were gone, as were at least half of the small wrinkles on his face. All of the small scars on his hands and arms from his past accidents in the workshop, battle, or Afghanistan were gone as well.

Tony grinned at his new self and set to shaving his slightly overgrown goatee back to it's signature shape.

- . . - - .

As soon as Tony had walked in, the doctor had started speaking. "Congratulations, Anthony. You are, once again, twenty five years old."

Tony simply stared at Doctor Erskine, who chuckled. "Yes, you thought it only made you _look_ younger." Tony nodded. "Well, the purpose of the serum was to achieve the peak of human perfection. A forty something year old man is not at his peak, so the serum literally made you younger. I am also fairly sure that you will still age much slower than normal, even though you received a smaller and less concentrated dose."

Tony nodded again, not really knowing how to respond. _I'll get a kick out of this if I ever get home,_ Tony thought, thinking of how everyone, even if he couldn't really remember _anyone_, would react to a younger him.

- . . - - .

Steve had been accepted into the army. Steve was going to Rochester, New York. Steve was hoping that, _somehow_, he might just see a man there. A man that, in just a few short days, had become as close to him as Bucky, but who had left as suddenly as he had arrived. A man, Steve would hardly admit to himself, that he might, just possibly, have had a tiny, miniscule, barely there crush on the man. They may have not seen each other in a little over a year, but on occasion, those soulful brown eyes still visited him in his dreams.

- . . - - .

Tony watched from his tent as the new recruits lined up from where he was standing in a randomly placed tent a few yards from the new recruits. Tony didn't really know what the purpose of the tent was, there was nothing much in it, but at least he could scope out the fresh meat from under the shade. Tony had discovered quite a while ago how fun it was to mess with new recruits, and this group wouldn't be any different.

He watched as Peggy Carter surveyed the group. A man made some comment to her with a look on his face that reminded Tony of the first time he had been about to turn twenty six years old. He laughed loudly as she decked the guy, then calmly spoke to the Colonel.

Colonel Phillips gave some speech, Tony not really hearing much of it, but noticing when the man stopped to stare at the smallest man in line. As Phillips continued, Tony's eyes stayed on the small man. He was scrawny, a little bit of blonde hair was visible from under his helmet, and his beautiful blue eyes were- Wait. _Beautiful?_ Tony couldn't remember ever being attracted to another man before, whether it was in the twentieth or the twenty first century.

_Well, except for that kid when I first woke up in this time._ Tony's thoughts trailed off. He remembered Steve Rodgers, the man with all the bravery in the world, but also with all sorts of sicknesses and problems. Little Steve with his always happy, kind of dorky but kind of adorable smile. His perfectly fixed hair that Tony had been tempted to run his fingers through it to mess it up so many times. And his eyes, bright and blue, reminding Tony of the freedom of flying high in the sky as Iron Man.

Tony knew then that he could never forget those eyes, and on multiple occasions, even his dreams refused to ignore the memory of them. Those amazingly blue eyes that followed something as it flew quickly overhead, then disappeared from Tony's sight as Steve turned and ran.

Tony jumped as his brain caught up with his ears. Someone had just yelled "grenade," seconds before Steve took off. Tony's body lurched towards the man now laying on the ground, but he fell back in shock as he yelled for everyone to get back.

Off to the side, Erskine grinned at Colonel Phillips, who glared just a bit harder than his normal face.

- . . - - .

"Now, Steven, I would like to make sure you understand what is going on here, what will happen at the end of your training."

"I will be injected with the serum, correct?" Steve asked Erskine.

"Yes, but more than that. I, with a few fellow biologists have worked to create a serum to change any man, even a small man such as yourself," Steve blushed, "into the perfect soldier. You will be faster, stronger, you will heal faster and won't need as much sleep. You will see and hear better than the average man, and this will help you in battle. Before the serum, you will study and train as any other man new to the army, so you can't slack off."

"I wouldn't, Dr. Erskine."

"I didn't think so, good."

"Dr. Erskine, how will the procedure work? Is it just a shot, a surgery, what?"

"Ah, yes. You will be put into this chamber, only big enough to hold a single large man. It will close up, and needles will be inserted into your major muscles. The power will be turned on and the machines will all be monitored by our main engineer. It will activate the serum, then poof, the chamber will open and you will be a new man."

"What if something happens? What if the engineer makes a mistake or if he did make one while they were building it?"

Erskine laughed. "Ah, out of all the things to worry about that day, the engineer should probably the very least of your worries. When I called him the _main_ engineer, I meant more that he did everything himself and would only let the other engineers work as simple assistants to hand him tools or such. Tony- Oh, there he is," Erskine spotted Tony through the open flaps as he walked across the camp a few tents away. Erskine stepped out and yelled "Anthony, come here, if you will!"

Tony looked up, shrugged, and headed over to where Erskine had just disappeared into one of the tents. It took a moment for Tony's eyes to adjust to the darkened tent for a moment, but Erskine had already started talking.

"Steven, this is the engineer, Anth-"

"Tony?" Tony blinked and looked at Steve as he sat on one of the cots across from Erskine.

"Steve," Tony nodded. He had planned to talk to Steve at some point, but right now he couldn't think of a thing to say to the man.

Erskine looked a bit confused until Tony explained "Steve was the one who found me in Brooklyn when I first woke up with no memories."

"Well, isn't this a small world. Anthony, I was just explaining to Steven that he shouldn't worry about your work, but perhaps the two of you would like to catch up." He turned to Steve, "See you later, Steven."

Tony gave a low chuckle after the man had gone. "He won't call me Tony, even still, and I have no idea why." Tony shrugged and sat down on the cot Erskine had vacated.

"And he was right, you know. Erskine and his crew came up with the serum, I designed and am building the machine, and Howard funded it all, so there's nothing to worry about." Steve thought back to when Tony had lived with him for that short while and knew that he could trust the man in front of him to not accidentally kill him with some odd machine.

- . . - - .

_To be honest, I wasn't going to post this for a while, but I really needed a distraction. Please leave a review; it would really make me happy. -PUV_


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